Bucholz and the Detectives

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When, however, it appeared to be possible that his fellow-prisoner
might be of assistance to him in his approaching trial, and that this
assistance could only be rendered by the release of Sommers from
jail, he had caught at the suggestion and the result had followed.

I became convinced as matters progressed that whatever knowledge
Bucholz had of the crime would never be communicated while Sommers
remained a prisoner, and hence, after he had been confined long
enough to accomplish the preliminary object in view, I arranged that
his bail should be reduced and that he should be released.

It is not necessary to relate in detail the daily intercourse of
these two men during their days of joint imprisonment. How Sommers,
by dexterous questioning, had fathomed the mind of the suspected
murderer, and become so closely identified with his interests, that
he was regarded as the only man upon whom he could rely for
assistance.

The detective had played his part admirably. Although the constant
object of suspicion, he had succeeded in overcoming all doubts that
were entertained of his true position; and, although Bucholz had been
repeatedly warned by his counsel against this man in particular, he
had successfully outwitted them, and knew more of their client than
they had been able to learn.

After obtaining the information as to the place where William had
secreted the money which had been taken from the murdered man,
Sommers at once telegraphed, in cipher, the fact to my New York
agency and requested instructions how to proceed. A trusted operative
was at once sent to act with him, and to accompany him upon his visit
to the barn in search of the treasure, and operative John Curtin was
the man selected for that duty.

He left New York on the following morning, and, arriving at
Bridgeport, had an interview with Edward Sommers, and together they
devised the plan by which they were to get possession of the dead
man's money.

They accordingly boarded the train for South Norwalk, and upon their
arrival they separated and proceeded up the railroad track until they
were out of sight of any curious eyes about the depot, when they
rejoined each other and continued on their way.

The barn where the money was alleged to be hidden stood between the
house and the strip of woods through which they had come, and the
large double doors were upon the side facing them. It was necessary
that every precaution should be taken against being observed, and
consequently it was decided that Sommers should enter the barn, while
Curtin, reclining under one of the trees, would be enabled to keep
watch and to warn his companion, should any one approach the barn and
threaten detection.

This plan being arranged, Somers walked directly towards the barn,
the doors of which were closed and fastened upon the inside by a
swinging bar. Inserting his hand through an opening in the wood-work,
he pushed the bar from its place, and the doors flew open.

Hastily entering the building, he found the interior to correspond
exactly with the description given him by Bucholz, and a hurried
glance showed him at once the place where the pocket-book was alleged
to have been hidden.

He soon reached the designated spot, and, reaching under the loose
flooring near the head of the stairs, his eyes lighted up with
satisfaction as his hand came in contact with the leather book which
he had half hoped and half doubted to find there. Quickly removing it
from its place of concealment, he deposited it in the inner pocket of
his coat and ran from the barn in the direction of the spot where his
companion was lying.

John Curtin was provided with a stout adhesive envelope, and
producing this, the earth-stained wallet was at once enclosed within
it, and in the presence of the other the packet was sealed up
securely. The two men then walked to the next station, and taking the
train for New York, came directly to the agency.

The German Consul was notified, and in a short time he made his
appearance, when the package was placed in his hands, and he was
requested to open it.

He did so, and the contents of the book were counted in his presence
and in that of Mr. Bangs and my son Robert. It was found to contain
the sum of four thousand seven hundred and thirty-seven dollars, in
United States money, each note bearing the numbers which had been
placed upon them by Henry Schulte and which had also been discovered
upon the money which Bucholz had been so lavish in expending after
the murder and prior to his arrest.

The gratification of all at the success thus far achieved was
apparent upon their faces. Whatever belief had existed in their minds
prior to this of the innocence of the man accused was swept away
before this substantial and convincing proof of his guilt. All felt
that we were upon the right track, and that the course pursued had
been the only practical one under the circumstances.

The money, after being carefully counted, was enclosed in a wrapper
of heavy brown paper, to which the German Consul affixed his seal,
and the package was placed in the fire-proof at the agency for safe
keeping, until a final disposition should be made of it.

It was evident that the money thus discovered was but a small portion
of that which had been taken from the person of Henry Schulte, and
Edward Sommers was directed to return to Bridgeport and continue his
visits to Bucholz and his attempts to obtain further information
regarding the balance.

Bucholz had previously suggested to Sommers that someone should be
sent to Germany to endeavor to procure some of the money which he had
inherited from his uncle, in order to enable him to bear the expenses
of his trial, and he had requested the detective to undertake the
voyage. Sommers had demurred to this, and had recommended to his
companion that Mr. Bollman, who was also a German, be commissioned
for that purpose. This would induce the absence of the attorney and
his cautions, and enable him to work with more freedom upon the
prisoner. He therefore had offered to loan to Bucholz the amount of
money that would be required to defray the expenses of such visit,
and to take the note of his friend for the amount.

Mr. Bollman cheerfully assented to this proposition, and only awaited
the furnishing of the loan by Sommers to embark upon his journey to
the home of Bucholz, and to attempt the collection of the money which
he had inherited.

Sommers was therefore provided with the sum of three hundred and
fifty dollars in money which did not bear any of the marks that had
been placed upon the notes belonging to Henry Schulte, and that
evening he returned to Bridgeport.

He visited William the next day and informed him of the success of
his visit and of the finding of the money. He also told him that he
had placed the package in a safe place, but that he had not yet been
successful in removing the marks, owing to the peculiar nature of the
ink with which the numbers had been made.

Bucholz seemed to be both pleased and relieved with the results
obtained, but seemed anxious that the money should be furnished for
Mr. Bollman's departure as early as possible.

Sommers then told him that he had succeeded in borrowing some money
from a friend of his, which he would advance for that purpose, but
that, in order to fully deceive Mr. Bollman, William should give him
his note, in the presence of the attorney, for the amount. Upon this
being done, the money would be forthcoming, and Mr. Bollman could
depart at once.

The next day Mr. Bollman visited the accused man by appointment, and
the matter was explained to him by Sommers and Bucholz. He announced
his approval of the loan about to be made. The note was duly drawn,
the money counted out, and Bucholz handed the amount to his counsel.

As Mr. Bollman received the money, he looked up quickly and inquired,
in a quiet manner:

"This money is not on the list, is it?"

[Illustration: "_This money is not upon the list, is it?_"]

It was a very adroit question, had the detective not been upon his
guard, but without flinching, he looked doubtfully but steadily into
his face, as he inquired:

"What list? I don't know what you mean."

"Oh!" replied Mr. Bollman, with a light laugh, "I thought this might
possibly be some of Schulte's money."

At this they all laughed, and the mind of the attorney seemed to be
set at rest upon the point of Sommers' knowledge of anything in
connection with the wealth of Henry Schulte.

After Mr. Bollman's departure from the jail, Sommers, turning to
Bucholz, said, in a quiet, unconcerned manner:

"I heard that the Schulte estate has been sold, and that the
new-comer intends to tear down the buildings at once. He bought it on
speculation, and expects to find Schulte's money."

Bucholz was visibly affected by this information. His face became
pale, and his lips trembled as with suppressed emotion.

"They won't find anything there, though," laughingly continued
Sommers, apparently ignoring the excitement of his companion. "We
have got ahead of them."

"My God!" exclaimed Bucholz, not heeding the last remark. "This must
not be done. I will trust you, Sommers, and we must get the _other
pocket-book_. You must go there and get it."

The excitement and distress of the young man were unmistakable, as he
proceeded slowly and tremblingly to inform Sommers where the other
book was to be found.

"My dear Sommers, you must get this other money--it is in the barn
also. In one corner there is a bench, and under this bench there is a
large stone--you must dig under this stone and there you will find
it."

Sommers listened intently to the directions given, and promised to
perform the duty that was imposed upon him, and, hiding the
satisfaction that he felt, he soon after took his leave from his
companion, who now seemed greatly relieved at the prospect of saving
this treasure for which he had sacrificed so much, and which now
seemed in such imminent danger.

With mingled emotions of pride and satisfaction, Sommers left the
jail and proceeded on his way to his lodgings.

After a long struggle he had been successful. "The falcon, after many
airy circlings, had made its swoop at last," and its polished talons
had done their work not unsuccessfully. The stricken quarry might
flutter for a while, but the end would be soon and sure.

CHAPTER XXVII.

_A Midnight Visit to the Barn._--_The Detective wields a Shovel to
some Advantage._--_Fifty Thousand Dollars found in the Earth._--_A
good Night's Work._

The day following the revelations made in the preceding chapter,
Edward Sommers returned to the agency and communicated the
information which he had received the day before, and awaited
instructions before proceeding further in the matter.

My son Robert A. Pinkerton determined to accompany him upon this
visit to the barn, and he also requested the German Consul to
delegate some one from his office to be one of the party. To this
proposition the German Consul at once assented, and Paul Schmoeck, an
attache of the Consulate, was selected to accompany them upon their
visit to the Schulte estate.

Procuring a dark lantern and a garden spade, the party left New York
about nine o'clock in the evening, and, without accident or delay,
arrived at South Norwalk. On leaving the train, they separated, and
Sommers, being acquainted with the road, walked on in advance. In
order to avoid attracting attention, they walked up the main street
of the town a short distance, and then, changing their course, they
reached the railroad, along which they traveled until they arrived at
the strip of woods in which Henry Schulte had met his death. They
traveled along the narrow pathway and reached the stone wall, from
which the house and barn stood in full view.

The evening was beautiful indeed--a bright moon illuminated the
landscape almost with the luminous light of day. The air was still,
and not a breath rustled among the leaves of the trees overhead. A
silence profound and impressive reigned over all. From afar the
rumbling of the train which they had left was borne upon the air.
Involuntarily the three men who had come to this place upon a far
different errand stood in silent admiration of the natural beauty
that was spread before them.

Fearing that Henry Waring might have remained away from home later
than was his wont, they waited until they felt reasonably sure of a
freedom from interruption in their labor, and then, having finally
concluded that all was safe, they proceeded quietly to the barn,
whose doors were wide open, and offered no bar to their entrance.

Lighting their lantern, they thoroughly searched the interior, in
order to discover if any tramps had taken refuge under its roof. All
was quiet as the grave. The moonbeams shone through the open door,
lighting up the barn with its rays, and almost revealing the figures
of the men who were within. They were afraid to close the doors,
which they had found open, lest some one looking from the windows of
the farm-house should suspect its being occupied and be tempted to
make an examination.

The spot designated by Bucholz was easily discovered, but, to the
dismay of the visitors, they found that a large quantity of bark had
been piled upon that particular corner of the barn, and that upon the
top of this were thrown several sheets of tin, which had evidently
been taken from the roof of some building.

There was no help for it, however; the bark and tin must be removed,
and Edward Sommers, throwing off his coat and vest, went to work with
a will. Robert held the lantern, while Paul Schmoeck stood by, with
his hands in his pockets, eagerly awaiting developments.

The rattling of the tin, as it was being removed, was so loud that it
was feared the sleepers in the farm-house would be awakened by the
noise. They stopped and listened. Evidently their slumbers were
profound, for not a sound came from its enclosing walls.

The bark was soon disposed of, and then Edward Sommers grasped the
spade and struck it into the ground. The clock in the distant town
struck midnight as he commenced the task. Eagerly he worked and
eagerly watched the two men beside him. Their eyes seemed to pierce
through the damp mold, and every spadeful of dirt, as it was thrown
up, seemed to increase their anxiety. Steadily worked the detective,
and the new earth lay piled around him, but as yet no indication of
the treasure they sought. The perspiration rolled from the face of
the anxious Sommers, and a doubt began to creep slowly into his mind.
Robert, too, partook of the anxiety of his companion, while Paul
Schmoeck, who scarcely understood the object of their visit, looked
doubtfully upon the proceedings and indulged in frequent mutterings
of disappointment.

Could it be possible that they had been deceived--that they were
seeking for something which had no existence? Could Bucholz have
imposed upon the credulity of Sommers and sent him upon this fool's
errand? Or could the detective have made a mistake in the location
designated? One or the other seemed to be the case. But hark! the
spade strikes a hard substance; it must be the stone mentioned by
Bucholz. With redoubled energy the detective wields his implement,
and, at last, as he withdraws it from the ground, something glitters
in the ray of the lantern. A closer examination disclosed several
bright gold pieces, mingled with the dark lumps of dirt which had
been lifted by the spade.

[Illustration: "_With a joyful cry he exultingly held up a large
wallet before his excited companions._"]

An audible sigh of relief escaped them all as they looked. Robert
took out his pocket-handkerchief, and the coins, dirt and all, were
deposited within it. Surely success was certain now--and soon, by
carefully digging away the surrounding earth, the detective was
enabled to place his hands beneath the stone. Then, with a joyful
cry, he withdrew a large wallet, and held it up exultingly before his
excited companions.

Ah, yes, victory was assured now, and, after carefully searching
around the stone to discover if anything else had been hidden there,
the wallet was placed in the handkerchief along with the coins, and
they prepared to leave the place.

The earth was replaced, the bark and tin were piled upon the top of
it, and after they had finished, nothing in the appearance of things
would indicate that midnight workers had been there, or that the
murdered man's treasure had been discovered and removed.

The overwrought nerves of the worker and watchers were strengthened
by a long draught of prime "Eau de vie," which had been brought along
by the considerate Paul, and after making sure that everything was as
they had found it, they left the barn and proceeded toward the
railroad.

It was necessary now to get rid of the lantern and the spade. To
retain them would be hazardous--they might be stopped upon the road,
and the possession of a dark lantern and a wallet of money would be
strong evidences of something else than a detective operation, and
besides this, secrecy was all-important at the present time.

Passing a ravine some distance from the scene of their operations,
Robert threw the lantern away, and it dropped to the bottom with a
noise that was echoed upon the quiet air; further on, the spade was
disposed of, and then, disencumbered, the trio walked to Stamford,
about eight miles distant, where they boarded a train and returned to
New York, well pleased with the result of their night's work.

It was six o'clock when they arrived. They proceeded at once to the
Windsor Hotel, where the German Consul resided, and, awakening that
gentleman, Robert sent up his card, when they were admitted to his
parlor and the package was exhibited to his astonished gaze.

To count the contents of this enclosure was now the next duty to be
performed, and in the presence of all the parties the labor was at
once commenced. The gold pieces were found to amount to one hundred
marks--consisting of three twenty-mark and four ten-mark pieces--and
it was noticed that one of them had a hole drilled through it. The
wallet next received attention. It was discovered to be a pocket-book
enclosed in a canvas wrapper, securely sewed together and fastened
with sealing-wax.

The German Consul removed this outer covering and the black leather
book was disclosed to view, which gave evidence of containing no
small amount of money.

The contents were removed, and upon counting it, were found to amount
to two hundred and four thousand marks, in one-thousand-mark
bills--or nearly fifty thousand dollars. Verily a good night's work,
and one to be proud of.

The murdered man's money had been found, and the man who had stained
his hands with blood would never reap the benefit of his crime.

The notes, from their long continuance in the damp ground, were quite
moist and adhered closely together, and the German Consul was
therefore required to lift them carefully with his knife, and great
care was necessary in handling them. Each of these notes was found to
be numbered in the same manner as those recovered upon the first
visit, and a complete list was made by which they could afterwards be
identified.

Besides the money, the package contained some cards, and a foreign
passport in the name of John Henry Schulte, dated in April, 1878.

After counting the money, it was, together with the articles found,
wrapped in stout brown paper and duly labeled. All present then
affixed their signatures to the wrapper, after which the German
Consul wrote out a receipt for them, which was taken charge of by
Robert.

They then partook of some refreshments, after which they departed,
and feeling completely exhausted after their laborious experience of
the night before, Robert and Edward Sommers sought their couches, and
were soon wrapt in slumber.

The German Consul was elated at the success which had crowned our
efforts, and he no longer entertained a single doubt of the guilt of
the miserable man, in whose behalf he had originally interested
himself.

The information of our success was conveyed to Mr. Olmstead, the
State's attorney, who received it with evident surprise and
satisfaction. We had succeeded beyond his expectations, and the
correctness of his original theory had been fully demonstrated.

He experienced the proud consciousness of being able to successfully
prosecute a criminal who had violated the law, and to convict a
wretch who had taken a human life in order to possess himself of the
blood-stained fruits of his crime.

While all this was transpiring the guilty man passing the weary hours
indulging in alternate hopes of escape, and oppressed with harrowing
fears of punishment.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

_The Detective manufactures Evidence for the Defense._--_An Anonymous
Letter._--_An important Interview._--_The Detective triumphs over the
Attorney._

These events occurred during the latter part of May, and the trial
would not take place until early in September. It was necessary
therefore that the utmost secrecy should be observed in reference to
what had transpired, and especially so far as William Bucholz was
concerned.

The visits of Edward Sommers to the jail must be continued, and every
effort must be made to pierce through the dead wall of Bucholz's
silence and reserve in relation to the murder.

Hitherto when in their conversations the subject of the murder had
been mentioned, and Sommers would quietly hint at his complicity, the
other, with a shrug of his shoulders and a peculiar smile, would
abruptly change the conversation. His strong will and the constant
admonitions of his counsel had prevented him from revealing in any
manner the secret of his crime, and except for certain actions, small
in themselves, but speaking a "confirmation strong as holy writ," he
had given no sign that he was acquainted with the dreadful
circumstances, or had any knowledge of the affair other than had been
already related by him.

After arriving in Bridgeport, Sommers hastened to the jail and found
Bucholz impatiently awaiting his arrival. He was nervous and excited,
and his mind was troubled about the success of the enterprise upon
which Sommers had gone.

The news which the detective brought reassured him, however, and he
laughed gayly as he thought that his money was now safe from the
reach of any one but himself and his friend.

There was something so cold and brutal about this laugh of Bucholz
that caused the detective involuntarily to shudder as he gazed upon
him. Here between the narrow walls of a prison cell he stood face to
face with a man who had taken a human life, and who stood almost in
the awful presence of retributive justice, yet his laugh was as clear
and ringing, and his face as genial as though no trial awaited him
and no judgment was in store.

The sensitive nature of the detective recoiled from such close
contact with this crime-stained man, but his duty required it and he
performed it manfully and well.

He related to Bucholz his visit to the barn (omitting, of course, to
state who his companions were) and the finding of the money. As he
mentioned the discovery of the gold pieces, Bucholz exclaimed:

"Gold pieces! I cannot tell for the world how they got there. I don't
know anything about them."

It was evident that he had not examined this package prior to burying
it in the ground, and Sommers suggested the possibility of their
having been wrapped in the paper which enclosed the canvas-covered
book.

"You were very careless to put the money in such a place," continued
Sommers; "the notes were so rotten, I was almost afraid to handle
them."

"You mean," said Bucholz, with a laugh, "that Schulte was careless,
not me;" then starting up he walked backward and forward, exclaiming:
"My God, how careless I was!"

"Yes," replied Sommers, "after risking so much, you should have taken
better care of it."

Bucholz stopped in his walk, and facing his companion asked in a
manner that gave every evidence of insincerity,

"Do you think that I killed him?"

"I think you know something about it," replied Sommers, gazing
steadily into the eyes of his questioner. "Do you think if tramps had
killed him, they would have left twenty thousand dollars upon his
person?"

"Well," said Bucholz, laughing in a bewildered manner, and then, as
if taking comfort from the reflection and anxious to change the
conversation, "the money is all right, anyhow."

Yes, the money was, indeed, all right, but not in the sense he
deluded himself by believing.

They then discussed the various measures that were to be adopted in
order to deceive the officers of the State.

It was arranged that the two pocket-books should be thrown behind a
large rock that stood by the railroad track, directly opposite the
path which led through the woods and along which the old man and
himself were in the habit of traveling. Bucholz seemed over joyed at
this proposition, and with many flattering expressions complimented
his companion upon the wisdom of his suggestions. They would have
continued further, but the time had arrived for closing the jail, and
Sommers was compelled to take his departure.

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